


You Caught Me

by ptw30



Series: Gargoyles AU [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Based upon the lovely works of velowsa, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gargoyles AU, Keith just wants to get under Shiro's loincloth, M/M, Mentions of Kolivan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 23:02:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15129644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ptw30/pseuds/ptw30
Summary: Based upon Velowsa's lovelyGargoyles AU.Keith had been falling for most of his life; then he met Shiro.





	You Caught Me

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Velowsa for letting me play in her AU. 
> 
> Warning: Suggestive sexual situations.

It was selfish, Keith knew. Kolivan had been there for him since his first arrest, sat him down after his second, and refused to let there be a third. Keith owed everything to Kolivan – his apartment, his job, his life. Keith would have found himself dead in some back alley for telling off the wrong gangbanger instead of the youngest detective in the NYPD history, if not for the current commissioner.

It should have been a no brainer for Keith to go to Kolivan with Shiro’s – rather, Hunk and Pidge’s – request. The two tech-heads wanted to study the robotic gargoyles, which were currently in the evidence lockup downtown. He just needed Kolivan’s permission to obtain possession, but Keith couldn’t bring himself to enter the commissioner’s office. Instead, he stopped by Starbucks and brought out their entire cakepop inventory.

Up the elevator to the top floor of the precinct, then up another flight of stairs to the clocktower, Keith found a short, green-skinned gargoyle perched upon the back of the recliner in the living area. Pidge clicked away on Keith’s old laptop before her amber eyes glared over the rim of her glasses, judging.

“You didn’t bring the robotic gargoyles for Hunk and me to study."

It wasn’t a question, so Keith decided not to answer. When he turned away, she snatched three of the cakepops with a huff.

Before Keith exited the area, a yellow, pudgy gargoyle bounded over, wings flapping and hands rubbing together. Hunk instantly peppered Keith with questions, tasting pop after pop and trying to figure out the ingredients. Keith barely made it past him and not without promising to bring Hunk the necessary items to make his own pops.

“Keith!”

Keith sighed and rolled his eyes, shoulders drooping as a lithe, blue-skinned gargoyle flew over his head.

“What do you want, Lance?” Keith demanded as Lance straightened his back. At full height, Lance was almost half a head taller and used that difference to glare down at Keith.

“You promised to bring Hunk and Pidge something to play with.” He bent to see the two remaining cakepops in Keith’s hand – a blue one and a purple one – narrowing his eyes and then plucking the blue one with special care. “You didn’t.”

“Yeah, well, I need to speak to my boss and then – ”

“Kolivan is part of your clan, right?”

Keith blinked, shoulders jerking back. Clans were families to gargoyles, and though Kolivan and he weren’t related, Keith always brought the man a cup of a coffee on Father’s Day. It was more than he gave Zarkon. 

“…I guess…?”

“And you’d do anything for him.” Lance was trying to make a point and unlike their usual exchanges, Keith could tell Lance wasn’t going for the joke here. “Well, you’re a part of our clan now. Why won’t you do the same for us?”

Keith’s mouth dropped open, but before he could gather his bearings, Lance smiled a challenging grin, the same one he always did just before Shiro called him on his bad flirting. This time, though, Keith saw the genuine hurt behind the cheerful façade.

“Zarkon is hunting for us, and those robot gargoyles – Hunk and Pidge think they can help us find out more about his technology, maybe come up with some defenses against his attacks.” He tentatively licked the pop and hummed a bit to himself. “Look, I’m just saying – I know Shiro won’t bring it up to you, but someone’s got to. You’re the only one who can get us the stuff we need, and you do want to help us, right?”

Lance doubted him? “Of course I do.”

“Then maybe you could…?”

With that, Lance walked toward the living area where Pidge and Hunk were currently finishing off their treats. It hurt a bit to think Lance wondered about his commitment or his affection for the clan, but Keith understood. It’d be over a week since Pidge and Hunk asked him for the robot gargoyles, and he had yet to produce anything other than excuses and cakepops.

Sighing, Keith shook off his guilt the best he could and pressed onwards, until he came to the doors leading to the clocktower’s terrace.

The terrace wasn’t very large, brick with a far wall boasting small pillars – one for each gargoyle to sleep on every day. Between the two middle pillars stood the largest gargoyle of the clan, and Shiro’s striking figure never ceased to steal Keith’s breath.

Dark purple skin that glowed in the moonlight. Broad shoulders carrying dark wings that folded down and clasped at his collar like a cloak. Chiseled abs leading to a leather loincloth, held in place by a thick black belt. Strong thigh muscles on display for Keith to appreciate. A black and silver right arm – replaced by Zarkon upon his re-awakening –  was cool to the touch but refreshing against Keith’s cheek in the summer heat.

A patch of white bangs swept across Shiro’s brow while short dark hair framed pointy ears. A handsome face, intense eyes. Keith was captivated every time Shiro turned toward him, especially with that soft, welcoming smile.

Keith wondered what Shiro saw when he looked upon him – a short but lean frame, long legs trapped in faded jeans. A red jacket, holding him a bit tighter than necessary, and unruly hair dusting the back of his neck.

Untamed. Wild. Not majestic like Shiro.

“You’re spoiling them,” Shiro laughed, surveying the cakepop Keith offered.

Keith’s shoulder twitched, an abbreviated shrug. “Maybe they deserve to be spoiled.”

The gargoyles spent more than a millennium asleep, only to be revived in a world unlike the one they left, betrayed by their former leader and now clinging to each other as their only kin.

Keith might never understand all the gargoyles went through, but he certainly could empathize and on some level, relate.

Shiro sniffed the cakepop and then bit off half, eyebrows raising in surprise and delight. Keith watched, amused, before leaning back against one of the terrace’s pillars. With Shiro focused on the streets, they now faced each other.

“I’m sorry I haven’t spoken with Kolivan yet,” Keith said as he shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and looked away. “I’ll make sure to grab him before the next sunset.”

Shiro’s hand was heavy upon his shoulder but comforting. “Everything all right?”

Keith’s eyes shot up. “Yeah. Why?”

“You seem anxious.” He offered Keith the other half of his pop and finished it off when Keith shook his head. “If there’s anything I can do to help…”

Shiro, who led a team of young gargoyles and was only a handful of years older. Shiro, who cared for others more than himself, who had his heart stomped on by his own mate – Shiro was willing to listen to Keith’s problems when Shiro had enough of his own. Keith sighed and dipped his head back.

“ _Keith_  – ”

“I don’t want to share you,  _okay_?”

Shiro’s hand tightened but never wavered from its hold. Patient. Not expectant but hopeful. Keith couldn’t look Shiro in the eyes.

“I like being the only one to know you and your clan,” Keith said. “The moment I tell Kolivan about you – he’s gonna want to meet you. And once you meet him, they’ll be others.”

“And?”

Keith blinked up at Shiro, taking in the older gargoyle’s low brows and concerned features. “Huh?”

“And if we meet others? Why does that bother you?”

“It shouldn’t,” Keith conceded with a deep sigh. He knew that in his heart, so much so that it physically hurt. “But once you meet other humans and find out you can trust them, too…”

_… you won’t need me anymore._

Shiro’s claw tickled Keith’s jaw as it dragged along Keith’s cheek. With his opposite hand, he threaded his fingers with Keith’s and murmured, “Fly with me?”

Shiro asked as if Keith would ever say no.

Keith wasn’t a fan of being carried princess-style, but he couldn’t deny the way his stomach somersaulted when Shiro’s powerful arms slid under his elbows and knees. Shiro’s wings spread, magnificent and exhilarating, and Keith tried to hold in his excited gasp when Shiro jumped off the clocktower. By Shiro’s indulgent smile, Keith knew he failed.

They soared over the blinding Manhattan streets, around the large skyscrapers, and into the calm of Central Park. Keith tightened his arms about Shiro’s neck and drunk in the sight of that beautiful jawline bathed in moon and citylight. Shiro’s eyes glowed silver, and even wearing an unsettling expression, Shiro was mesmerizing.

After almost a year, Keith still couldn’t grasp of the concept of living, breathing gargoyles – and the sensation of his muscles relaxing and his body leaning naturally into Shiro’s when they took to the night sky.

Every time, Keith never wanted the moment to end.  

Shiro’s eyebrows lowered, and Keith thought he could hear the mechanisms turning in Shiro’s mind. He desperately wanted to know what Shiro thought but feared to know the answer. Instead, he waited, heart thundering, blood pounding in his ears, though he didn’t know how long his nerves would last.

Shiro took pity on him.

“There’s something you need to know,” Shiro began, voice low and raspy, like a vow. “Gargoyle clans are sacred, Keith. We do not welcome new members unless all gargoyles agreed, and only then, it is still under extreme circumstances.”

Keith blinked, mouth dropping open. That meant Hunk, Pidge, and Lance all welcomed him, wanted him in their clan? 

“And it’s not  _my_  clan, Keith.” Shiro sounded tense, pained even. “It is  _our_  clan.”

Keith knew that on some level, but accepting the notion was hard. To think he belonged and others wanted him seemed too good to be true.

Shiro’s eyes shifted low. “Tell me, Keith.”

“I grew up alone,” he whispered, and his words were almost lost to the wind. “My dad died when I was eight, and I never knew my mom. Kolivan and some of the cops kinda took me in, helped me get on feet years later, but I don’t know if I ever stopped falling.”

How ironic that he only felt balanced when flying with Shiro, hundreds of feet above the Earth.

Shiro’s wings flapped quickly, slowing their flight, and Shiro came to rest upon the railing of a small balcony at the top of the Empire State Building. He dropped Keith’s feet onto his own but lowered his hands, clutching the belt loops of Keith’s jeans.

With a small grin, Shiro lowered his head to nuzzle Keith’s cheek and into his hair. “I don’t think you understand your importance to the clan. You saved us. We’d most likely dead or working for Zarkon if not for you.”

“But you might still be with Sendak,” Keith whispered, tugging on the edge of Shiro’s long bangs. “Maybe that would be better than hiding out in a clocktower above my – ”

Shiro’s arms tightened and drew Keith closer. “I made my decision that night, but it was more than choosing to save you over Sendak. It was choosing my future over my past. Sendak betrayed the clan,” and there was no mistaking the anger battling the hurt in Shiro’s voice. He glanced away, only to come back to grip Keith’s jaw in a surprisingly tender touch. “You welcomed us into your life, into your home. You helped us through our confusion and our uncertainties, and you’ve become my…confidante.”

Keith blushed and buried his face in Shiro’s strong neck. “Is that all?”

“You do not understand. The others – they rely upon me. They think I know I’m doing, and that is rarely the case. You allow me to voice my fears.  _Keith_.” Shiro’s hands climbed up Keith’s waist, fisting in his jacket at his lower back. “Do you not understand what you mean to the clan? To  _me_?”

Keith was standing, but he could also feel himself falling, tugged below the surface by a strong, unwavering undercurrent. When Shiro lifted his head to meet Keith’s gaze with such raw emotion, Keith could hardly breathe under the weight of it.

“It doesn’t matter who we meet. It will never change who you are to me.” He smiled and dipped his head until Keith could feel the warmth of Shiro’s lips against his own. “I wish I didn’t have to share you with anyone else, either.”

Shiro’s expression wavered, and he pulled back slightly, allowing the cold touch of disappointment to slip into Keith’s belly.

“You forfeit so much of your own life to help us,” Shiro whispered. “I can never repay you.”

Keith’s hands shook as they cradled Shiro’s cheeks. “There’s nothing to – ”

“I  _have_  nothing, Keith. Nothing to offer you. You deserve so much more than I – ”

“You caught me, Shiro.”

Shiro’s dark laughter was more self-depreciating than humorous. “I caught you once,  _after_  I put you in danger.”

“No.” Pulling down Shiro’s head, Keith whispered against Shiro’s cool lips, “I had been falling for a long time, before I met you. You caught me and helped me find solid ground.” He laughed, drawing Shiro’s eyes with a brush of his cheek. “Nothing to offer? I want nothing else but  _you_.”

They’d kissed before, chaste embraces mostly, sometimes more intense, but this one fueled the desire that had been simmering in Keith’s belly for almost a year. His lips burned, and his skin tingled, especially when he heard the flap of Shiro’s wings. They went out and back before their familiar, smooth expanse ensconced Keith in a secure embrace.

Keith’s hands crept up the back of Shiro’s neck to entwine in his hair; Shiro’s claws fisted in the back of Keith’s jacket and brought Keith higher, closer. They took quick, desperate gasps for air before Keith once more pressed up on his toes and took Shiro’s lips for his own. Swollen, warm, and inviting, they lured Keith, their taste sweetened by Shiro’s confession and the earlier cakepop.

The proof of Shiro’s arousal pressed against Keith’s stomach, and he only pulled away long enough to whisper, “I’ve always appreciated your fashion sense.”

Shiro’s eyebrows curled. “My loincloth?”

“Frames those thick thighs and allows for easy access,” Keith said as his fingertips skimmed down Shiro’s tight abs.

“I don’t understand. Easy acc –  _oooh_.”

Keith grinned into the crook of Shiro’s neck.

With a strangled grunt, Shiro’s legs gave out. The large gargoyle tumbled backwards into the night sky, tugging Keith against him, and together, they fell.

Keith was neither worried nor scared, only holding on to the man he loved and trusting Shiro to catch them. When Shiro’s wings came out and lifted them into the sky, Keith was laughing. He pressed his cheek against Shiro’s chest and enjoyed the sound of his lover’s thundering heart.

They retired to Keith’s apartment, where Shiro laid Keith out upon the bed and hovered over him, wings spread, eyes heated by more than just lust. Keith felt more vulnerable then than he ever would fully revealed. Shiro looked upon him with such desire and love that Keith’s head spun and his cheeks burns. He hooked his arms about Shiro’s neck and tugged him down for another soul-devouring kiss.

Shiro caught him time and time again that night, and though the words were never necessary between him, Shiro murmured them against Keith’s neck that night like a sacred prayer.

Keith awoke the next morning to the warmth and blinding light of the mid-afternoon sun. Wincing, he rolled over and grabbed his blanket, indulging in a familiar ache of a good exercise and the comforting sensation of the morning’s warmth.

Before he settled back into a relaxing dose, a nagging feeling jabbed his thoughts. Keith cracked open one eye and then another to see Shiro’s thick black belt and his own jacket laying disheveled on the other side of the bed. It took a moment for the night to come back to him – his argument with Lance, his confession to Shiro, their flight, and then –

A broken lamp lay upon the floor, thanks to Shiro’s impressive wingspan, along with the remnants of his torn clothes, which fell prey to Shiro’s sharp claws.

When Keith pushed back against his headrest, the entire bed shifted, sending him tumbling to the floor. Right. That happened the same time the lamp went and right before Keith’s vision whited out the first time. Shiro had moved him to the kitchen island after that, though Keith didn’t remember coming back to his bedroom.

Sighing, he stood with a grunt and pushed back his wayward bangs, noticing Shiro’s absence. A pointless pang of worry snagged his gut, but Keith dismissed it. Shiro would have left with enough time to make it back to the clocktower before dawn or have found a safe place to stay.

Once he got into work, he’d check on Shiro before seeing Kolivan. Keith been dreading the conversation, but it’d be a relief to finally explain to his surrogate father what he’d been up to the last year. Then he’d go down to the lock-up, get Hunk and Pidge their new project, and maybe pick up garlic knots for Lance.

But first, coffee, followed by a bit of tidying up. Then work. With renewed vigor, Keith opened his bedroom door and stopped short of the massive stone gargoyle blocking his exit. Solid rock and heavier than Keith’s motorcycle, Shiro was impassable.

That just wasn’t playing fair.

Well, Keith would have to amend his schedule, call in sick and speak to Kolivan after nightfall. But it wasn’t all bad. If he was going to be stuck in my bedroom all day, he was glad Shiro decided to indulge him.

After all, his mate hadn’t put back on his loincloth.

_The End_


End file.
